


just you & i

by obsessivelymoody



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2010, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 06:59:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17421206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessivelymoody/pseuds/obsessivelymoody
Summary: There's no better way to start the day than with a three hour breakfast.





	just you & i

**Author's Note:**

> based on the prompt: “Are you sure that’s the decision you want to make?”

There’s a boy in Phil’s bed. 

He’s laying on his side, hair curling at the ends, and his mouth is slightly open, deep breaths softly coming in and out, rustling the fabric of Phil’s pillowcase and blowing hot air onto his hand. 

It’s kind of gross, Phil thinks, but ultimately he doesn’t mind. Better than not having Dan here at all. 

He feels a bit creepy watching him, soft and peaceful and so much younger looking in his sleep. Just calm and gentle with no harsh lines of worry or angst marring his expression. 

He’s not sure he’s ever going to get properly used to it. 

Not just having a boy in his bed, but this one in particular. This one he didn’t expect to really, actually fall for. Or who would fall for him too. Or that he would love.

It still almost feels like a foreign concept, saying “I love you” to someone and meaning it so much that the words don’t seem to do the feeling justice. Phil wonders when he’ll shake the surge of panic that at some point Dan won’t say it back to him, but there’s comfort in knowing he wasn’t the one to say it first because biting his tongue in fear is better than facing potential rejection.

He slowly inches his hand closer to where Dan’s rests limp near his shoulder. Phil lightly drags his index finger up the side of his palm and across the wide expanse of it, drawing little circles in his palm. 

It feels barely real to him as he lets a few moments pass, still tracing gentle circles, listening to Dan breathe and the quiet unique to early mornings in his house. It’s too nice, too soft, too much like something he feels he doesn’t entirely deserve but he drinks it in, slowly lacing his fingers between Dan’s. 

He brushes his thumb along the back of Dan’s, and it doesn’t take long for him to wake up. Phil watches him blink, listens to his breaths come in sharper and the low, sleepy mumbles coming from his mouth. It’s almost unbearably sweet, the way Dan looks at him when he’s fully awake, eyes still puffy and the flecks of gold in his irises bright. 

“Hi,” Dan whispers, tightening his hand around Phil’s. “What time is it?” 

“About half eight.” 

“Nooo,” he whines. “No Phil, why?” 

He leans forward, burying his head into Phil’s chest. “It’s so early. We need a rule about getting up before ten in the morning.” 

“I hear regular people get up even earlier than this.” 

“I don’t give a fuck about regular people,” his voice is muffled against Phil’s chest. “I only care about me ‘n you.” 

“I’ll make you breakfast.” Dan lifts his head off Phil’s chest and half rolls away, hands still locked together. 

“Bribing me with food now?” 

“Bribing you with a three hour breakfast. Because we’re alone. And we can do what we want.” 

Dan smiles, rolling his eyes. “Oh, you’re good. You’re too good at this. Just give me ten more minutes.” 

He takes his hand from Phil’s and rolls onto his front, face planted in a pillow. 

Phil laughs softly and rakes his hand through Dan’s hair, mussing it before pushing back the duvet. He doesn’t blame Dan for wanting to go back to sleep, but he’s far too awake now and food is on his mind and...nothing really compares to their three hour breakfasts. They’re practically legendary. Epic, Phil might even say. 

“No more than ten minutes.” Phil says as his feet touch the carpet. “Or you’ll be getting some serious angry Phil bites.” 

“Mm, maybe I want that.” He says into the pillow and Phil flushes, poking what he thinks is Dan’s calf under the blanket. 

“Shut up, don’t distract me from food.” 

“I’m too lazy to try.” 

Phil rolls his eyes, padding out of his room and downstairs into the kitchen. 

He rifles around through the fridge, unsure what to make. Or maybe he’s just wasting time until Dan wanders downstairs. He pulls eggs out of the fridge anyway, setting the carton on the counter as footsteps sound on the stairs. 

“That was barely even five minutes,” Phil says when Dan walks into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. A jolt of pleasure whips through his chest when he notices that Dan’s wearing his trackies and his purple Babycakes shirt. It’s silly maybe, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of Dan wearing his clothes. 

He shrugs. “Maybe I missed you. Maybe it’s not the same in bed without you.” 

“Thought you wanted angry Phil bites,” he says, leaning back against the counter. 

“Yeah,” Dan says, taking two small steps to Phil and grabbing his hand. He pins him against the counter. “I did. Do, still.” 

He peppers kisses along Phil’s jaw, and Phil snakes an arm around his waist, tilting his head to nip at Dan’s earlobe. 

“So what are we eating?” Dan asks between kisses. 

“Eggs. Pancakes. Toast,” he whispers, putting his teeth on Dan’s neck. “Take your pick.”

“Hmm,” Dan says, then gasps when Phil bites harder into his neck. “Fuck. Eggs. No, pancakes. Pancakes. What am I saying? Pancakes.” 

Phil laughs against his neck, lightly trailing his tongue up to his jaw when he feels goosebumps form on Dan’s skin. 

“Are you sure that’s the decision you want to make?” Phil says, pulling off his neck and trying his best Chris Tarrant impression. 

“I—fuck off Phil,” Dan pushes off him, laughing. “Way to kill my boner. I should have never agreed to play that game with you last night.” 

“We got so close to a million pounds, though!” He laughs. Dan rolls his eyes. 

“Whatever, we’re gonna end up making all of it anyway. Just—” he grabs Phil’s hip, pulling him close again, kissing the corner of his mouth “—very slowly.” 

“No other way to do three hour breakfasts.” Phil whispers to him. 

“No other way at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can like/reblog this on [tumblr](https://obsessivelymoody.tumblr.com/post/182010057982/33-for-the-prompt-thing) if you want.


End file.
